


Springtime Veil

by dansunedisco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Cora Hale & Vernon Boyd Friendship, Cunnilingus, Derek Hale is a Good Alpha, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Food, Future Fic, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scenting, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“This is a disaster!” Lydia paced in the foyer, hands up in the air like she was unable to process the absolute, utter garbage that was now sitting in her hallway. Garbage also known as Erica and Boyd’s croquembouche.</i>
</p><p>Cora and Lydia help plan Erica and Boyd's wedding, and discover a few things for themselves along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Springtime Veil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theyoungestzerogmechanic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyoungestzerogmechanic/gifts).



“This is a _disaster_!” Lydia paced in the foyer, hands up in the air like she was unable to process the absolute, utter garbage that was now sitting in her hallway. Garbage also known as Erica and Boyd’s croquembouche. 

Cora wanted to tear her hair out. Or Lydia’s. At this point, she wasn’t picky.

“It’s _fine_ ,” she said, trying her best to placate the monster that was Lydia Martin on a pastry-driven rampage. She knew from the get-go that planning a wedding with the redhead would be a difficult affair, but every day it became more ridiculous. The fighting, the perfectionism; meltdowns over the smallest detail not adding up to “the vision”. The vision that was more or less Lydia’s extravagant version of what Erica and Boyd wanted. 

At this point, Cora wanted nothing more than to quit her spot in the wedding party, fly to Cabo, and never, ever come back to Beacon Hills. But she couldn’t run away. In good conscience, at least. _You’re doing this for Boyd,_ she reminded herself. _For Boyd._  

“Fine?” Lydia asked tightly. She turned the venomous glare previously reserved for the pastries Cora’s way. “Have you forgotten that Erica hates strawberries? I specifically told the bakery _no_ strawberries, _no_ ganache--” 

“Lydia,” Cora said, grabbing her gently by the shoulders. “Erica is the _least_ picky eater ever. You know this. I know this. She won’t bat an eyelash at the five strawberry pastry puffs the bakery accidentally slapped on there.” 

Lydia huffed, but the tension in her shoulders melted away under Cora’s hands. “Fine. _Fine._ I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but you’re right. We don’t have time to get a corrected tier anyway.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, a new fire alighting in her eyes. “But this doesn’t mean the bakery won’t hear about it. I _will_ be getting a discount on the wedding cake, or _else_.”

 

-

 

The weeks leading up to the wedding flew by fast. Between her final dress fitting, making sure the caterer and DJ were on point, and assuaging Boyd’s tepid fears that yes, Erica was indeed the one for him, Cora hardly saw Lydia at all. But she was always around, red hair and high heels whirling by, a raised voice in the distance.

“She’s not going anywhere, you know,” Boyd said. 

“Hm?” Cora’s gaze drifted back to his. Her attention had been on Lydia, who was talking animatedly with the manager of the winery Erica and Boyd had chosen as their venue. They were still a few days away from the main event, but Lydia had insisted on pre-pre-rehearsals. “What are you talking about?”

He just leveled her with a skeptical look. “You can’t be serious,” he said. “You’ve been watching Lydia like a hawk all day.” 

“I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t strangle the vintner.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest like it would drown out the tiny, little blip in her heartbeat that screamed _lie_. Sure, she might have liked Lydia a little more than platonically necessary, a fact that had become ever more apparent in the last few months--but, it really didn’t mean anything. “You haven’t seen the way she’s been,” she insisted.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, obviously unconvinced. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t wait until it’s too late.” 

“Says the guy who’s been with the same person since high school.”

Boyd only smiled serenely in reply.

 

-

 

The ceremony went off without a hitch. 

Erica walked down the aisle on Derek’s arm and took her place next to Boyd under the arch of the ivy-covered gazebo, looking more radiant than the sun. Deaton officiated. The pack cried. Even Lydia teared up, her scent going muzzy and soft during the vow exchange, her hand dropping from the viking pom pom bouquet she was holding to find Cora’s. Cora squeezed, and Lydia squeezed back.

It was perfect; so perfect, in fact, that it only made sense that something would have to go wrong immediately after Deaton introduced the happy couple. The clouds that had been rolling in all morning broke apart with a crack, unleashing a sudden spring downpour that had everyone but Lydia and Cora running for cover. Lydia, because she was glued to the spot looking like all the world had betrayed her. Cora, because she couldn’t leave her behind.

“Let’s get out of the rain!” Cora said, tugging at Lydia’s elbow, but Lydia wouldn’t budge.

They were both soaking wet now. Lydia’s hair was coming undone, her perfect coif heavy and lopsided. After a beat, she took a resigned breath and swiped her wet hair back, letting Cora move them to shelter under the gazebo. “I knew it, Hale,” she sighed, “I knew mother nature would screw me today.”

Cora snorted. Even grumpy, wet, and volatile, Lydia still looked beautiful. “Even you can’t control the weather.”

“No,” she agreed, eyes sliding to the rain like she was considering what, exactly, it would take for that to become a reality. “But I’m actually okay with this.” 

“Oh?”

She nodded. “It’s very _The Notebook_ , you know?” 

Cora raised an eyebrow. She’d seen the movie once (or twice), at Lydia’s insistence, but the only parallels she saw today was the rain and--two people in it. Making out. Heavily. “ _Oh_ ,” she breathed. 

“Yeah,” Lydia said, lips twitching up into a tiny smile. “Oh.”

 

-

 

They didn’t tell anyone they left, instead sneaking away to Cora’s hotel room across the street, kissing and touching and laughing the entire way. By the time she slammed the hotel door shut behind them, Cora was halfway out of her mind with lust, skin burning with the need to touch, taste, _claim_ Lydia in every way possible. She’d never felt so out of control with someone else, so close to wolfing out, eyes flashing gold as Lydia stepped out of her dress and launched herself back into Cora’s impatient arms.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, nipping at the tender skin of Lydia’s neck, moving in after a moment to suck blood to the surface. Lydia only moaned, fingertips digging into Cora’s skin hard enough to bruise--if she could.

“Cora,” she breathed, and Cora could only growl in reply, her hands coming down to grip under Lydia’s thighs. She lifted her up with ease, preening under Lydia’s startled gasp, and spun them around so that Lydia’s naked back was pressed tightly against the wall, moving in for more desperate, open-mouthed kisses. Lydia smelled _so good_ , honeysuckle and rain and sweet, spicy arousal; like everything she had wanted, like nothing she had ever had before.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” she admitted, voice low. She ran her fingers across Lydia’s stomach, and down, down until she reached Lydia’s clit, rubbing it in gentle circles with her thumb, sucking down Lydia’s soft, satisfied cries. “God,” she growled, dipping her middle finger into Lydia’s wet heat, feeling like fire was running in her veins. 

It didn’t take long before Lydia was panting, moaning, bucking her hips to catch more, fingers coming up to tangle roughly in Cora’s hair. She yanked once, eyes unfocused but intense nevertheless, and spat out, “If I don’t come soon, I am going to _kill you_.” 

It was all the motivation Cora needed to drop to her knees and bury her face between Lydia’s thighs, tongue pressing roughly and sweetly against Lydia’s clit, two fingers now pumping inside her steadily. Cora growled, the taste of her better than her scent, more than happy to let Lydia grab the back of her head and guide her in the _exact_ way she wanted to be pleasured.

“ _Cora,_ ” Lydia said, fingers tugging like she wasn’t in control anymore, moaning Cora’s name a few times more, until she was shuddering steadily, clenching tightly around Cora’s fingers. It was almost enough for Cora to come, too, but she bore down to chase another orgasm with her tongue--another that left Lydia unable to stand on her own two feet. 

Cora carried Lydia to the bed, a thrum of satisfaction that had nothing to do with her own pleasure settling in her stomach. Seeing Lydia spread out, eyes closed, panting softly, in the bed that had Cora’s scent--it _did_ something for her, more than sex probably ever could.

She unzipped her dress and slipped out of it, crawling in next to Lydia like she belonged. “You doing okay?”

Lydia opened her eyes slowly and slowly pushed herself up onto her elbow, eyes raking down Cora’s naked body. “Never better,” she said, scooting down the bedspread with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been wanting to do this _forever_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, haven't written smut in a while. Hope you liked it!
> 
> -
> 
> ps the croquembouche bit was totally inspired by Faking It.


End file.
